Akiko in the Sprubly Islands (7 page)

Now, though, it all seemed like a very happy memory. I suddenly wished I could be with my parents again, just for a minute or two, so I could talk to them and be sure they were okay.

I rolled over onto my back and opened my eyes again. I stared up past the treetops into the starry sky and wondered if one of those stars wasn’t really the planet Earth. Maybe I was so far from Earth that it looked just like a tiny point of light up in the sky. . . .

In the middle
of the night I woke up. The fire had died down a little but it was still quite warm. Gax was slowly turning his head back and forth as he kept watch over us. The sound of the insects seemed much louder than it had before. There was still no sign of Mr. Beeba or Spuckler.

Then I noticed Poog staring at me. He had floated over until he was just a foot or two from my face. I could see my own groggy expression reflected in his big black eyes. He had this very serious look on his face, one I was sure I’d never seen before.

“What is it, Poog? I asked, sitting up. “Are you okay?”

Poog opened his mouth and said something in that weird warbly language of his. It was only about a second or two long, but seemed to be made up of eight or nine syllables. He said it again.

“I’m sorry, Poog,” I said, wishing Mr. Beeba were there to translate. “I don’t understand.”

But he kept saying this thing to me, this same short little alien phrase, like it was very, very important. He must have repeated it about ten times. Slowly I realized what Poog was trying to do. He was
teaching
me the words. He wanted me to listen to them and repeat them.

So I tried. I listened as best I could to the little phrase, but it was very hard to repeat the whole thing. I decided just to start with the first couple of syllables and try to learn it a little at a time, I guess Poog knew what I was trying to do, because he broke the phrase down and gave it to me in little pieces. There were some sounds that required sticking my tongue up against the roof of my mouth in a very uncomfortable way. There were also a couple of clicking sounds that reminded me of an African language I’d heard on television once. It was so difficult to pronounce, I really didn’t think I’d be able to do it. I could tell by the way Poog would sort of wince every once in a while that my pronunciation was pretty awful.

But he wouldn’t give up. He kept repeating the phrase, the first part of it, the second part of it, and the last part of it. Finally I said it once all the way through from beginning to end. Poog smiled. I got it wrong again once or twice after that, but then I said it right again, and eventually I started saying it right more often than saying it wrong. He made me practice it twenty or thirty times, until finally I was able to say it pretty quickly. When Poog seemed satisfied that I had memorized the phrase, he smiled and closed his eyes. Then he floated back until he was a couple of yards away from me and began humming quietly to himself. I watched him for a minute or so, but soon I put my head back down and closed my eyes too. A moment later I was fast asleep again.

The next sound
I heard was a little voice right next to my face.

“Just as I suspected,” the voice said. “She’s dead.”

I opened my eyes. It was morning, and a soft yellow light covered the ground in front of me. There, an inch or two from my nose, stood the tiniest little man imaginable. He was no taller than two or three inches from head to toe! He was dressed in military uniform, with an oversized helmet and big clumsy boots. His back was turned to me, and I realized that he was not alone. Two or three feet before him stood an entire
army
of little soldiers just as small as he was. There were hundreds of them, standing at attention in neat little rows!

I lifted my head from the ground and they all jumped back in fear. The little man in front of my face, who I figured was their leader, whirled around and looked me in the eye. His mouth dropped open and his knees seemed to buckle underneath him.

“She’s not dead!” he sputtered. “Sh-she’s moving!”

He drew a miniature sword from a sheath at his side, held it high in the air, and spun around to address his army at the top of his voice.

“Troops!” he bellowed. “Take your positions!”

I sat up and watched in amazement as the army divided itself into three perfectly equal groups and marched left, right, and center to form an impressive arc around me. They all carried tiny swords and shields and were dressed in suits of gray-and-black armor. I could tell by their speed and precision that they had practiced this sort of maneuver many times before.

“Quickly! Quickly!” their leader shouted. “Remember your training!”

“I must be dreaming,” I whispered to myself, rubbing my eyes and trying to convince myself this wasn’t really happening.

BLAAAAAAAAAT!

The sound of a tiny trumpet pierced the air, and the soldiers all stopped and stood at attention. The silence that followed was somehow even more frightening than all the commotion that had preceded it.

“Prepare your weapons!” the leader shouted as it slowly dawned on me what they were preparing to do. “Attack the intruder!”

“Wait!” I shouted, raising my hands into the air. The men grimaced and some of them covered their ears. I realized that my voice must sound incredibly loud when heard by ears as small as theirs.

“Please stop!” I said in a quieter voice, raising my hands even higher. “I surrender!”

“Halt!” the commander ordered, even though none of the soldiers had actually started to attack. I’m pretty sure they were just as scared of me as I was of them. I remember my mom once telling me that bees only sting people when they get scared and they have to defend themselves. I think these soldiers were probably a lot like that: not mean or anything, just awfully frightened.

The leader guy turned once again to face me, and for the first time I got a good look at him. He had a big, bushy mustache and a shiny little monocle over one eye. His head was wider at the bottom than it was at the top, mainly because of his oversized jaw.

“Surrender, eh?” he said with a stern expression, as if he didn’t quite believe me. Then he slowly relaxed and a smile came over his face.

“I salute your good sense!” he cheerfully declared, replacing his sword in its sheath. “You’re
bigger
than we are, obviously, but we’ve got you
outnumbered
, haven’t we?”

“Men,” he shouted over his shoulder, “sheathe your swords!” There was a clattering as all the soldiers put their swords away. I’d swear I heard some of the soldiers breathe a sigh of relief.

“As you can see,” the commander continued, pointing to something behind me, “your accomplices have also given up without a fight.’’ I turned my head to find Gax and Poog similarly surrounded by hundreds of tiny armed soldiers. Gax had a confused look on his face, but Poog seemed calm.

“Who . . .,” I began, my voice still a little rough from sleep, “. . . who
are
you?”

“Silence!” the commander bellowed, pointing an accusing finger at me. “
I
ask the questions!
You
give the answers!”

He glared at me for a moment, then continued in a much quieter voice: “But since you’ve asked . . .”

He put one hand on his hip and thrust his chest forward proudly.

“. . . I am Admiral Frutz, special advisor to Her Majesty Queen Pwip!”

Queen Pwip!
I couldn’t believe it. Suddenly I was very glad to see this little man, and extremely curious as to whether Queen Pwip was just as small as he was. It was hard for me to imagine that “Her Majesty” was only a few inches tall! Still, Poog had said she’d be able to help us, so I guess it didn’t really matter
what
size she was.

“You work for Queen Pwip?” I asked excitedly.

“
Silence!
” Admiral Frutz shouted, pointing another accusing finger at me. “You are not worthy to speak her name!”

“Sorry,” I said, and kept quiet. I could tell the best way to get along with this guy was to let
him
do all the talking.

Admiral Frutz opened a decorative canister attached to his belt and pulled out a tightly rolled piece of paper tied with a bright golden ribbon. He made an elaborate show of removing the ribbon and unrolling the scroll from top to bottom. Then he cleared his throat and began reading from it in a very formal tone.

“ ‘A Royal Decree from Her Majesty Queen Pwip!’ ” he shouted. A reverent hush fell over the already quiet troops. Poog, Gax, and I tried to remain absolutely still.

“ ‘In her infinite mercy, Her Majesty hereby orders that the
foul intruders,
’ ” he announced, staring at me as if to make sure I realized whom he was talking about, “ ‘are to be spared any bodily harm.’ ” I breathed a sigh of relief and he glared angrily at me for a moment before returning to the Royal Decree.

“ ‘Instead, Admiral Frutz and the SIRAR . . .’ ” He stopped briefly to explain. “That’s the Sprubly Islands Royal Army and Reserve, mind you. It’s an acronym.” He cleared his throat again, taking a moment to find the spot where he had left off.

“ ‘Admiral Frutz and the SIRAR,’ ” he began again, “ ‘are to escort the trespassers back to Queen Pwip’s palace for her personal interrogation. There they will be detained until such time as Her Majesty deems it fitting and proper that they be granted freedom. Her Majesty has spoken!’ ” He made a quick little bow before rolling up the scroll and carefully replacing it in its container.

I glanced quickly at Poog, who was smiling peacefully as if this were all part of some plan he had. I wish I could have been so calm about things. All I could do was think about how I’d promised that we’d stay right there in that same spot until Spuckler returned with Mr. Beeba. What if they came back and found us gone? They’d probably think we’d panicked and abandoned them or something. The possibility of the five of us becoming permanently separated was almost too scary to consider. I figured I had to at least
try
to delay our departure as long as possible.

“Look, uh, Mr. Frutz—” I began.

“It’s
Admiral
Frutz, you meatheaded monstrosity!” he bellowed, stabbing one of his little arms into the air. “And besides, I have
not
given you permission to speak!” There was a long pause as Admiral Frutz turned to face his men, who had stood obediently at attention the entire time. He raised his sword as if he were about to call out a new order, then stopped, replaced the sword at his side, and slowly turned to face me again.

“Oh, all right, what
is
it, then?” he asked with an exasperated sigh.

“Couldn’t we stay here just a
little
bit longer?” I pleaded. “I promised my friends that I wouldn’t leave until they came back.”

“What do you think I am? A
baby-sitter
?” he shouted angrily. “I will allow
no
such delays!’’ He spun around, raised his sword, and called out to his troops.

“Prisoner Escort Formations! Right! Left! Center!’’

The troops swarmed around us into an entirely new series of rows and columns, all facing in one direction. Suddenly I felt like Gax, Poog, and I were giant floats in a miniature Thanksgiving Day parade, with all the men ready to march us down the middle of Main Street. There was no real street, of course. But looking carefully, I could see a narrow path running through the forest that had been entirely invisible the night before. The path was covered with millions and millions of tiny footprints from all the tiny soldiers.

“Prisoners!” Admiral Frutz shouted up at Poog, Gax, and me. “On your feet!”

I knew there was nothing I could say that would change the admiral’s mind, so I slowly stood up. There were a few muffled gasps from the soldiers as they became aware of my full height. I’ve never felt so tall in my entire life! It was like I was looking down at them from the top of a skyscraper or something.

A trumpet blast sounded and the soldiers began marching forward. They were so small, though, that they couldn’t move very fast. I had to take little baby steps just to be sure I wouldn’t leave them all behind or accidentally squash one of them like a little bug. I glanced back at Gax and Poog, who were quietly following me. Then I looked up into the trees, half hoping to see Spuckler and Mr. Beeba floating back down to rejoin us, but all I could see was the hazy morning sun light coming through the leaves. I shuddered a little as I realized we might never see them again.